The Pain Inside
by ElizabethSH
Summary: --- HUDDY --- NO SPOILERS AFTER 6x07 --- House cannot take it anymore. He wanted to tell her, but the scar started burning again. Meanwhile Cuddy struggles between what she wants and what she feels like is right.
1. Chapter 1

She entered her office. She looked like someone who's been looking around for some time but couldn't find what she was looking for. She looked back one last time before admitting defeat and turned back her gaze inside her office. And there he was; standing by the window, looking outside, wondering. The door squeaked her entrance, but he didn't turn back to look at her. Still, she felt relief seeing him.

- There you are, I've been looking all over … she noticed something was wrong. What's wrong? She cut short.

His response took time to fill the silence. He wanted to speak; he wanted to tell her all about what was going on. Just like that, the whole story. But he couldn't bother her with that, she would not understand. Last time she didn't want to hear it either. Last time; one year ago, when there was no Lucas, when Rachel was too young for her to feel too guilty and when Vicodin took too much from his sanity. After a year, he understood that hallucinating her saving him, was just a way to protect him from the pain it would cause to realize what that cold "Screwed you" meant at this time. The warm, guilty and protective Lisa Cuddy he hallucinated then never was the Lisa Cuddy standing behind him right now. Hate suddenly spiked in his heart only to torture him more with the depressed feeling love left after taming it. _Love_. Was it _love_ he was feeling for her? Was he ever capable of such feeling? He didn't know, and that is as far as he pushed the questioning. Whatever he felt, those mixed emotions he had, that weight in his chest; he was feeling for no one else but her. She was the reason for his disease. Remembering that, his leg hurt a bit. Yes, he thought, she was reason even then. He hated her a little more.

- House? She said calmly, you okay?

She stepped forward timidly, not sure if she really wanted to know what was on his mind. Scared of what he might say. Scared of the reaction she might have – or not have – then. What then? She hated unanswered questions; she hated the feeling. Her heartbeat accelerated. Her breathing followed. She hated that physical response to stress too. She took a deeper breath to calm everything down. She also knew it wouldn't work.

She was about to say his name again but he finally answered:

- I can't do this anymore. He surprised himself saying in an almost emotionless tone.

She did not understand.

Without even looking at her, he turned back and headed for the office door. She felt herself confused. She couldn't even form a complete question in her head.

He didn't have to look at her to know exactly what face she was wearing. In other circumstances, he actually would've taken pleasure in leaving her like this. It was his personal way of leaving an impression on her. But now, it was just painful. He wanted to hang to this pain to forget the other one in his leg which was rising with every step he took.

Suddenly, his leg tightened and the pain irradiated thoroughly. It was almost as painful as when it all started the very first time. He stopped and gasped for air as he couldn't hide or lie for it anymore. His hand tightened around his cane as he leaned all his body weight on it, fighting to stand and praying for relief.

- HOUSE, she shouted as she ran for him, concerned.

- DON'T, he almost screamed, touch me!

She starred at him; half scared, half confuse.

- Don't … touch … me. He repeated, breathing with every word. Just … leave. He continued.

He took a break to breathe. His free hand was now massaging his leg to no avail.

- Just … leave … me alone! He finished. I … don't need you.

She wanted to speak, but didn't know what to say. She wanted to do something, but couldn't decide if she would be better off leaving. She looked at the door, tempted. She looked back at him, agonizing; his face wrinkled by pain, his body shaking and curled up. She wanted to take him in her arms, held his face; she wanted him to hold on to her, to _need_ her. He said he needed the opposite. As hurtful as this thought was, she foolishly came to think that she could take away his pain. That he just didn't know how much he, in fact, needed her. Somehow, she _wanted_ to be the only one who'll save him. But still, confusion never left.

- GO FUCK YOUR ASS OFF OUT OF HERE! NOW IS IT CLEAR ENOUGH FOR YOU?

She froze.

She didn't like how he said that. Somehow, she had got that "fuck your ass off" was, in fact, an insult regarding her relationship with Lucas. Her expression changed, she suddenly felt pity for him and anger kept rising.

She stepped back slowly, pissed. Tears she wanted to hide from him slowly filled her eyes._ Old son of bitch_, she thought.

He looked at her briefly to confirm that she would leave after that. He turned back at his pain which was a bit less painful, but constant. She would leave now, he concluded. He continued the breathing. He heard the door open, squeak and closed back.

She had left him alone… again.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

She couldn't walk away very far, by the second set of door, she stopped. She looked at him, still angry at what he had said. She could hear him breathes heavily through the door, moaning over pain. Her expression slowly softened, lowering her head down. After a minute, silently praying for him to get better as she couldn't make him better herself, she stepped out; sorry for his condition and well aware of the guilt she carried for that leg.

He stood the pain a little longer before having to drag himself to a couch nearby. It was still almost unbearable, the pain was constant but he was coping. It almost felt like something was eating it alive; preventing him from staying a very long time in the same position. His forehead beaded with sweat, nausea came along and he wouldn't be surprised if he was to lose consciousness over it. Breathe, he kept on breathing. Even if it didn't make it feel better, it was still the smartest thing to do.

He couldn't understand why he chased her, now he wanted her so badly. He needed to hold her hand. He needed to hear that everything was going to be fine. He needed to hear her voice. He wanted what he needed, needed what he wanted.

He damned Lucas. Because she had been stupid enough to fall in love with him, she would never come back and hold his hand. She would leave him like that, in pain, in need of her. But he couldn't blame her, who would want to care for an old selfish bastard like him. She deserved better; she deserved to be happy. She deserved Lucas.

His leg brought tears to his eyes. He grabbed the couch full hand and squeezed as hard as he could, believing it would ease the pain.

* * *

_He'll be fine_. Why couldn't she believe that? House knew how to manipulate, he wanted her out; he made sure she would. Were there meaning behind those words? Did he meant them or were they just to serve one purpose? She couldn't answer and she didn't want to know the real answer either. She felt stupid and now she regretted. Why was he in her office in the first place? She remembered. "I can't do this anymore_"_. Why did he say that? What was he referring to? The more she wondered, the more stupid she felt for not taking that open door he had left. It was a call for help, but she couldn't hear it.

- I shouldn't have left him like this. She tortured herself. I have to go back!

But he wanted her out so badly … His light blue eyes came back to her mind.

His eyes.

Somehow his eyes didn't seem that convincing anymore; she may have confused anger with pain. Besides, from the very moment she entered the room, he avoided eye contact; what was he so ashamed of? Shame? Didn't seem like shame. Fear? Maybe. She had rarely seen him scared.

What had she done?

Rapidly, she got out of the ladies room; _he can have all the insults he wants, I'm not leaving him like this, _she thought to herself.

Her cell phone rang.

* * *

He needed something more, something that would distract his brain from the pain. God it was painful. He felt dizzy, he would lose consciousness soon; he felt it. _Cuddy. _He begged silently. He wanted her back. He remembered why she wouldn't, but he still hoped she would ignore it. He was still hoping and ready to accept to be wrong this time.

Then it occurs to him, he was breathing too fast. Hyperventilation caused dizziness. He concentrated on taking deep breaths. He closed his eyes, his face heavily wrinkled and deformed by pain. He was scared the pain might never go. He had to do something, he couldn't just wait for it to fade; it wouldn't. He reminded himself to breathe. He pressed one hand against his face and sobbed.

Then, he had an idea.

For one restful second, this idea prevented his brain from reacting to the pain stimuli his leg was sending it. It was stupid, but it was his last chance. It had worked before, it should work again.

There was a glass table in front of him; Cuddy often used it to look at files light headed. Pain was coming back full throttle. He grabbed his cane by the end and held it high. He had to aim the middle of the table as it wasn't as well supported as were the extremities. One powerful and well placed hit was the only way to break it. He breathes some more. The glass was thick; he would have to wait for the pain to submerge him completely in order to have enough desperate strength to break the glass. He concentrated on the pain; it didn't take long.

- Oh GOD, he forced the words out of his mouth as the pain wouldn't let him talk.

He briefly smiled, realizing how ironic it was. He dragged his cane down as fast and as forcefully as he could and hit the table hard. It cracked, but didn't break. He was mad; he didn't have time for this! He hit it once more. Again, and again. Why does she have to have so expensive and high quality taste for her office furniture? Every time it cracked a little more, until that last blow.

He catches up his breath. His heart was racing. The table was down. He pulled himself to the floor and took the biggest broken glass piece at his reach. He sat on the floor, backed at the couch and look at the piece of glass in his hand. He inspired and jabbed the glass in his right hand. He screamed with the rush of extra pain. He pulled the glass down his palm, grimacing. He left the glass on the floor nearby.

So much blood. He felt dizzier. Stupid, he was so stupid; hands were way too well irrigated by blood, even a small cut would bleed a lot and this was no small cut. As his hand was covering with blood, he grinned; the pain in his leg didn't bother him so much, now.

Blood all over. Blood on his clothes. Blood on her carpet. She won't be pleased, but he didn't care. He laid his head on the couch, he felt very weak and dizzy. Had he lost so much blood already? The room spun around him. _Really?_ He closed his eyes. _Stupid_, he thought.

* * *

Her cell phone rang again, begging her to answer. She was starring at the caller's name on the small cell's screen; Lucas. She starred at the device has it kept on ringing.

She knew she should answer it, but some part of her didn't want to.

She simply hung up; hopefully he'll think she's having a meeting and could not answer.

She headed for the clinic's pharmacy counter. The clinic was almost empty at this time. She asked for the medicine she needed, wrote the most common family name she could think of under the "Patient's name" column, hoping a patient by this name was being admitted at this time, and she signed as the patient's physician.

She hung up on Lucas and bypassed the rules for him, why? She had done worst in the past, why was it a big deal this time? She sighed, she was afraid of the answer, she probably was mistaken. Something else can plausibly motivate her actions, yes, but maybe that was the mistake. She shook her head; she had no time to bother. She took off and headed for her office again.

A massive broken glass noise came from inside. Her heart skipped a beat and took a more rapid rhythm afterward. _What the hell?_ She wondered in choc. Then a scream rised.

- Someone break into your office? Asked nurse Regina as she came her way, suspicious and concerned.

- I don't know. She answered almost unaware of what the nurse had said, wait here …

She entered her office in a hurry even if she was profoundly afraid of what she might found.

Indeed, what she found paralyzed her. She looked at the scene before her eyes in horror.


End file.
